Hiya! Yep, I'm still here. It has been a busy few weeks. Mostly it has been filled with hustling like a crazed lunatic. I have had a couple tv auditions, an audition for a small role in a big film and three rounds of auditions for a big role in a small film. My man has also returned from spending the last couple of months up north, auditioning the hell out of the Toronto summer tv season, so it's good to have him back. A girl needs a little TLC, you know? (Wait... is that the first time it has slipped out? Yeah, soooo.... I met a guy. He is a crazy talented actor/musician/writer and our favorite pastime is quoting movies and inspiring gut-busting laughter in each other. More on him later.)
As I mentioned, I just finished my third round of auditions for this indie film I would really like to get. It comes at a time when I feel like I could really use a booking. Not just for my wallet -- which desperately needs the injection of cash -- but for my brain too. My super agent has been consistently getting me out on bigger auditions than I have ever been on before. Even special requests. I'll hear of something, ask him to get me in and he does. (wtf?!) Can this be true? Am I one of those rare actors who actually loves her agent and is super happy with the roster she's on?? 'Tis true, my friends. But even with all the great casting offices who have called me in, and the great work I've been doing in them, I haven't booked since the indie film earlier this year. My relationship with my agent is still new enough that it scares me juuust a tinge. How many auditions before he starts to doubt? Will he start to think I'm not a booker. Which I am. I am a booker. I book all the time. (A little nod to one of my favorite bloggers when I was just getting started here in La La Land.)
I once heard a casting director say you should see a callback or booking within 40 auditions, if not, something else is wrong. Well, I've beat that by a long shot, so I guess we're safe. There is little purpose in spending too much time worring about it anyway. If my agent loses interest and drops me, I guess that's the way it goes. (Bear in mind, this is all in my head right now. There is literally no indication that my agent is thinking of making the big D. But I am an actor and we are all guilty of unending paranoia.) However, getting two callbacks for this indie film will definitely help keep his confidence in me. (And my confidence in his confidence in me, if you can follow that logic.) Especially since it's out of an office that casts about a million of these little films a year.
As I signed in at the callback yesterday, I did that thing you do when you know it's down to you and one or two others...
I looked at the sign in sheet.
I know what you're thinking. It serves no purpose, I know. But it's right there and you just can't resist. It's like those little lollypops at the bank. You see them, you know you don't really want one and they're probably a little bad for you, but you take a rootbeer flavored one anyway just because they're there. It's human nature. Resistance is futile.
knew I was one of the last ones of the casting session, and I couldn't
help but look for other girls who had come and gone before me for the
same role. I just had to flick my eyes up as I wrote down my name and appointment time. There were two and I didn't recognize their names. Good, then they're pretty easy to ignore. Especially since they were no longer at the office by the time I came in to read and I didn't have to size them up in flesh 'n blood. (Oh shut up. You've done it too.)
Then I looked a little further and tried not to be freaked out by the fact that the other actors who signed in before me were all mostly repped by A-list agencies. I mean the big dogs in town. (Much like the above picture, which is the actual sign-in for casting The Office pilot.) I'm at a good house... but not that good. Not by a long shot. But there they were. A handful of names repped by the biggest agencies in Hollywood. And me. Little Anony with my good, but modest rep (whom I love more than brunch. And I fucking love brunch.)
Still, it doesn't actually matter. You know what does? As soon as I step on my mark, stand in front of the camera and look into that reader's eyes, I've got just as good a shot as any girl who stood on that mark before me. In that moment, it doesn't matter if UTA, CAA or Gersh is next to my name on the sign in sheet. In that moment, the playing field is leveled and it's anyone's ball game.
And this girl can hit a home run.